


Harley Runs Into A Little Trouble

by bluestalking, feverbeats



Series: Jason Red Robin Hood & His Friends The Rogues [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 03:16:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20369794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluestalking/pseuds/bluestalking, https://archiveofourown.org/users/feverbeats/pseuds/feverbeats
Summary: “Okay,” Harley says. “Here’s my thing: how long do you think you can go on being friends with Robin without Batman kicking your ass?”In which Harley makes everything significantly worse.





	Harley Runs Into A Little Trouble

i.

“_Excuse_ me?” Harley says. She’s so startled that nail polish comes flying off the brush and lands on Eddie’s shirt and sheets. She does not apologize, because Eddie is crazy. Not that someone being crazy means you don’t apologize to them. “Sorry about your shirt,” she says. They’ll notice the sheets later. “But, what the hell? You called Robin _again_?”

This weird thing Eddie has going on with Robin lately honestly and sincerely creeps her out. Robin is a little punk, _and_ he belongs to Batman. One way or another. Harley is willing to make intimations. 

"Well, but I needed him," Eddie says, rubbing the nail polish until it's a large and shining patch on their shirt. "He's really helpful in a pinch. You can't say that about most people we know."

“I know plenty of people who are helpful in a pinch,” Harley says. “Or, one, anyway. Ugh, Ed, he must be awful. Hanging around Batman all these years? Yikes.” She takes Eddie’s hand and does another nail.

"Mm," Eddie says noncommittally. "Not all these years, actually."

Harley loves Eddie so she tries not to be rude about it when they do a riddle. She thinks a minute and says, “He’s kinda harder and softer now, isn’t he? Is he younger, too?”

Eddie smiles a gratified little smile. "Five years or so, I'd say. He's a nice kid, Harley. Actually nice."

She blows on their nails. “That side done. Don’t touch anything! I don’t know about nice. He hits awfully hard.”

"Well, we've usually earned it," Eddie says. "That sounds _very_ fucked up to say, but you know it's true."

Harley laughs. “Lots of fucked up things are true about us. That’s part of our charm. When are you going to bring bat boy around for dinner, huh?”

"Hm," Eddie says, holding their nails out and examining them. "That might be pushing it. For us and for him. He does still work for Batman. And don't forget who _you_ work for."

Harley would never, for one second in a thousand years, forget who she works for. Just thinking about it makes her feel warm and satisfied and excited to be alive. 

“Yeah, maybe they wouldn’t get along so great,” she says. “I’m just kidding, anyway. I think you’re crazy, wanting to be friends with that kid. You and Scarecrow? What do _they_ have to say to each other?” She’s always a little rude to Eddie about their boyfriend, even though she loves them. She and _Dr. Crane_ go too far back for her to have anything like respect for him.

Eddie rolls their eyes. "You know Jon. Sometimes he hisses threats at Robin and tries to gas him, sometimes he's sort of...vague and polite. It works. I consider myself kind of an intermediary between them."

Harley sighs. “Yeah, I know Jon. Hey, listen, you can’t let Jon really hurt the kid or we’ll all be in the shit.”

Eddie squirms, their hand trapped in Harley's. "Ugh. I know. I worry about that constantly, believe me. But I don't think he will? Probably? Who knows with him. Still haven't solved that one. I'd probably be bored if I had."

Harley hates comparing their situations, but she can always tell when Eddie is hemming and hawing around the subject. 

“You know how to pick ‘em,” she says. “Him _and_ Harvey. It’s too bad there aren’t more nice boys in this crappy city to pick you up.”

"In fairness, Harvey is half _extremely_ nice," Eddie says unhappily. "But okay, point taken. We both have terrible taste."

She smiles. “I’ll give you Mr. J is a little much for some people to handle, but don’t let my girl hear you saying anything about my bad taste.”

Eddie flops backward on the bed, tugging their hand away. "Nnnnnn. She's so _mean_."

“Nooo,” says Harley, flopping down next to them. More nail polish gets on the sheets. She shoves the bottle out of her way and snuggles up next to Eddie. “She’s just cool, that’s all. Waaaay cooler than us.”

"Like Jon," Eddie agrees, in the face of all the facts.

“He was never cool,” Harley says severely. “Come on, Ed, it’s not like you never met him back in the day. He was the _worst_.” Back when he _worked_ at Arkham, instead of being thrown there.

"The worst as in deeply unethical," Eddie says. "But he's got, you know. Money? Panache?" If they're trying to find out what Jon and Ivy have in common, they're way off base.

“Don’t worry about it,” Harley says. “He’s perfect for you, and that’s all that matters.” She pats Eddie’s stomach, feeling happy and generous. She likes spending time with Eddie, and now she’s thinking about Ivy, and later she has _work_...it’s really a lovely day.

After a minute, Eddie says, "There is nail polish _everywhere_."

Harley laughs and rolls upright. Her own nails are bare, still, but Ivy can do them. If Harley asks _very_ nicely.

“Okay,” she says. “Here’s my thing: how long do you think you can go on being friends with Robin without Batman kicking your ass?”

Eddie sighs deeply. "He already kicked Jon's ass for it."

“A couple months ago, that Arkham stint?” she asks.

"Yeah," Eddie says. Bitterness creeps into their voice. "That messed him up for weeks. That was because Robin helped us."

“There are a lot of rat bastards in Gotham, but Batman is the rattiest,” Harley says contemplatively. “I’d like to hit him with something big and heavy. Can’t wait for the day me and Mr. J take him out.”

Eddie, who always gets weird about Mr. J, sits up, too. "Ushering in a new empire for Gotham? No thanks."

“Don’t get touchy,” Harley says. “Come on, Eddie, aren’t we having a good time?”

"Let's just not talk about our love lives," Eddie says. They clearly don't mean it. That's at least fifty percent of what they talk about.

“I love _you_,” Harley says. “Gosh, you’re cute. Listen, do you want to go get some chicken fingers or something?”

"God, yes," Eddie says. "But I have absolutely zero money right now, so you pay."

“I invited you, didn’t I?” Harley says. “Come on, buddy. Oh, and don’t forget to not touch anything.” It’s the dead of summer. Eddie won’t need a coat.

Eddie blows on their nails one more time, loops an arm over Harley's shoulder, and steers them both out the door.

On the way to chicken, they say, "But should I invite him over for dinner, though? Robin? Is that endangering a minor?"

Harley says, “Christ, Ed, I think you really are a glutton for punishment.”

"Well," Eddie says. They shrug and give her a sideways smile.

She laughs and kisses their temple. She leaves lipstick behind. It’s a cheap brand but she loves the color.

“Tell you what, if you do, let me know. Will everyone be dressed up, do you think? Does Robin eat his takeout in a domino? How long will we get for kidnapping?”

"Don't tell anyone, but I'm well on my way to figuring out his other name," Eddie says. They're always doing that kind of thing, even though that isn't the game.

“Careful,” Harley says. “If you figure out him you’ll figure out Batman and PCHWOOO.” She makes an explosion with her hand.

"Is that what your boyfriend will do to me?" Eddie asks. "Or what Batman will? Will they team up?"

“That’s Gotham,” says Harley sternly. “I like things how they are.” Until she and Mr. J kill Batman. That will change stuff.

"Nobody appreciates my hobbies," Eddie sighs. "I'll just keep bothering Robin when I'm in trouble, then. See how long that takes to catch up with me. From either side."

“Is he really that good on his own?” she asks. “I know he can hit, but that ain’t everything.”

Eddie considers. "He's determined. Nothing slows him down. Physically or morally. I'm just afraid Batman's going to wreck him."

“That’s Batman,” Harley agrees. They pull up to The Burger Place. It’s new, and it replaced a better, greasier burger place called Tony’s Cheese Palace. Harley hates all that it stands for. But the chicken is pretty good. 

"I want that orange sauce," Eddie says. "I'm thinking we should intercede. And a grape soda."

“Orange soda,” says Harley. “And buffalo sauce.” She likes to play chicken with her chicken. 

They order and wait for their food at one of the empty plastic tables, sipping their drinks. 

“Intercede how?” she asks.

Eddie gazes up at the ceiling. "I wonder how hard it would be to bring him over."

Harley laughs so hard her stomach hurts. “Bats would kill you,” she says. “Ed. He would. He would break his little rules and murder the heck out of you.”

"And then the Joker would honor my memory forever," Eddie says, lowering their voice. "I know, I know. I'm not going to. I don't even know if I could. I guess I'll just...keep doing what I'm doing?"

Well, shit. She hates to see them miserable. 

“I wish I saw what you see in him,” she says wistfully. “Then I might even help you do whatever crazy-ass thing you’re thinking of doing.”

"The first time he shows up when you're about to get the shit beaten out of you and stops it, you will," Eddie says. They give her a little smile.

Harley could spit blood all day and still not want to be rescued by Robin, but she allows for differences between herself and Eddie. 

“I’m glad he’s sweet to you,” she says. “Don’t get sucker punched.”

"I probably will," Eddie says, playing with their straw. "I usually do."

That’s one of the things about being a villain in Gotham. You all get sucker punched sometimes. If it’s by Batman or your best friend, you know it’s going to happen sometime. It even happens to Mr. J. It _even_ happens to Ivy.

“Chicken fingers, two orders?” calls the cashier. Harley jumps up, waving, and gives her an extra smile. She’s cute, Harley’s cute, and service work is terrible for morale. 

Eddie takes their chicken fingers and they don't bring up Robin again for the rest of the meal.

ii. 

Harley has work, which is a ball, and when she’s done there she goes straight to Ivy’s place still smelling like smoke and cotton candy. 

Ivy is curled up on her couch (a fat, old couch that has followed her to every apartment) reading something that looks sciencey. There are new vines curled around the base of the pot that houses the lemon tree in the corner.

Ivy looks up. "Don't make me regret giving you a key. What kind of trouble are you bringing with you?"

Harley laughs and flings herself into Ivy’s lap, giving her such a long kiss that she thinks maybe Ivy will forget to disapprove of her.

Ivy is a little glassy-eyed when she breaks the kiss, but she quickly shakes that off. It's hard to sneak anything past her. "You are so cute. What have you been doing and with whom?"

“Read the papers if you want to know _that_, Miss Ivy,” Harley says. “I was doing my job. You know, job!” Sometimes she gets paid. Tonight she got paid! She swings her purse around in front of her and opens it. “Look at all the money,” she says.

"I'm not going to start with a lecture," Ivy says, tugging one of Harley's pigtails. "But I could. Just know that."

“You don’t know, they probably deserved it,” says Harley. She thought they did, personally. They were incredibly rude. 

"It's not about who you were doing it to," Ivy says. "It's about who you were doing it with." She pushes her file away and loops her arms around Harley's waist.

“Mm,” says Harley cheerfully. “And what did you do today?”

"I'm doing a peer review on a paper," Ivy says. "Oh, and I pulled down part of Wayne Tower."

Harley bursts out laughing. “Oh gawd, I wish I’d been there,” she says. “You are so beautiful when you’re fighting the patriarchy. And capitalism! Did you see Bruce Wayne in person?”

"No, but I heard he was inside, so maybe I got him," Ivy says. "I hope I got him."

Harley kisses her face five or six times and says, “We should do something together sometime. Like a crime date.”

"Oh," Ivy says, "I always want to go on a crime date with you. Let's do it. Tomorrow. Something we don't need much planning for."

“Yay!” says Harley. “Aw, yes! I should be free. I will be free! Hey, I know. Let’s find out if you got Bruce Wayne.”

"I was going to wait for the evening news," Ivy says. "Do you have a better idea?"

“Is his house off limits or what?” Harley says. 

Ivy raises her eyebrows. "Bold. Let's do it. And why wait till tomorrow?"

“Mmm,” says Harley. “I like your thinking. But he might be looking at his tower you knocked down tonight, right? I’m pretty sure I can show you a good time right here, though.” Her sweetest smile. No one makes her feel as sweet as Ivy.

"You're shameless," Ivy says. Her cheeks are a little pink. Harley loves being able to do that to her.

“All right, votes are in!” Harley declares. “Tomorrow: Wayne Haunted Manor! Tonight: no manners at all!”

Ivy makes a satisfied noise and pulls Harley in for a kiss.

iii.

Harley is imagining a lot of things at once. One is all the things she’s going to do to mess with Bruce Wayne, if he’s alive, which he is, because his death was not on the news. One is if Eddie left their nail polish on, because she feels she did a very good job. One is how she’s going to make out (or more!!) with Ivy on Bruce Wayne’s bed if he is not home.

They are creeping up to the manor by walking right towards it, just two beautiful queer girls out for a historic Gotham walking tour.

"If we get caught, I'm not apologizing," Ivy says. "I'm going to tell him he's everything that's wrong with America." Ivy always comes on strong, but it's hot.

“Damn right,” says Harley. “Hey, I think there’s a stump over there we can use to get over the wall.”

Ivy nods and goes over to the stump. Instead of using it as a step, she puts her foot on it and waits for vines to come shooting out of it and lift her gently over the wall. Show-off. Harley scrambles up the vines and leaps down lightly on the other side.

“This is your kind of place, huh?” she says.

"And when we're rich, we'll live in one just like it," Ivy says. "Or we'll just live here, depending."

Harley giggles. Eddie, she thinks, would be horrified. They’re really a gentle soul. Just because they’re surrounded by people who maybe sometimes result in other people being dead doesn’t mean they like it. 

“You mean….you marry him, I’ll do him in, you get the fortune and we get married on the grounds?” She says the last few words in a haughty British accent.

Ivy laughs and grabs Harley's hand. "I couldn't even _fake_ a marriage to Bruce Wayne."

“Hmm,” says Harley. She puts fingertip to chin. “How about you do him in and I marry him? I’m as distinguished as you are! And I can stomach it.”

"You can stomach a lot of things," Ivy says, which isn't fair when they were having fun.

“That’s right!” she says bravely. “Come on, let’s go break in. Unless you just want to meet and greet all his rose bushes instead.”

"Sounds like an activity for another time," Ivy says. "Maybe after the wedding." She goes to one of the big windows and smashes a hole in it with another vine.

God, Harley is so in love.

She hoists herself in, careful on the windowsill. She lands softly in a dark room. Her eyes start adjusting as Ivy comes in after. 

“Rich people make books look so boring,” she whispers. “Blah blah blah I have a giant library, I keep all the dirty stuff in a special room with red leather walls.”

Okay, that doesn’t sound so bad, actually. Tacky, but tacky can be exciting.

"I promise you'll get first dibs if we find any secret rooms," Ivy says. "Come on." She steps into the hallway, the vines retracting to wherever it is they go when they're not around.

“So sweet,” says Harley. She hugs Ivy’s arm and then lets go, sprinting ahead to the enormous staircase.

“Come on, if he’s not dead or at some kind of playboy party he’s probably in bed, right? So probablyyyyy upstairs!”

"He better be dressed, that's all I'm saying," Ivy says. As she follows Harley upstairs, vines wrap themselves around the banister.

“Can you imagine his face?” Harley asks. Then she shuts up and they go all the way to the third floor where she guesses the bedrooms will be.

The first one is empty and the second one is definitely not Bruce Wayne’s place of sleep. She freezes for a second, but the kid’s not here.

“Doesn’t this kid have a bedtime?” she asks.

"I'm only going to make tasteful comments," Ivy says. "He probably stays up all night playing video games."

Harley points to the consoles on one side of the room, and arches an eyebrow.

Ivy shrugs. "Maybe he snuck out. Spoiled rich kids do that too." 

“Oh, I know,” says Harley, even though she usually pretends not to.

"Just look for a bed with black silk sheets," Ivy says. "Or drunk models. That'll be his room."

Harley snorts and tries to stifle it. 

The rest of their tour is weirdly boring, there’s no locked room with red leather walls, and nobody is home to freak out. Harley wants to steal stuff but it all seems cumbersome, and this is about the hunt, anyway.

It’s obvious they’ve found the right place, when they finally open the door. It’s not as fancy as Harley would have expected (no black silk sheets, which is very disappointing) but it’s the only room that has stuff in it that’s not just empty or covered up in cloths. The bed is made very neatly. There are photos on the furniture. There’s an en suite. (Harley has an en suite. It’s called living modestly.)

“No one’s here,” she says. “If this is his room, let’s trash it!”

Ivy smiles slowly. "I like the way you operate." The room starts to smell like damp earth, and flowers begin sprouting from the pillows.

Harley rips the plug out of a heavy bedside lamp and starts to swing. She smashes through a curio door, and old knick knacks go hurtling across the room.

Ivy gathers up the bedclothes and wrestles them out the window. Then she smashes the window.

Harley IS IN LOVE. She goes into the walk-in closet, which is like a cavern, and takes out armloads of clothes. Back to the bathroom! She dumps the clothes in the shower and turns it on, making sure the drain is fully plugged, and then carries shaving cream (stops to give herself a beard) and shampoo out to the bed and goes to town. 

When she finally emerges, Ivy has found something (lipstick?) to graffiti the walls with. They're now plastered with EAT THE RICH in bright red.

“Baby, you did so good!” says Harley. She rips open a feather pillow and swings it around. As the feathers settle, so her heart settles with satisfaction. “That’s perfect,” she says. “Wanna go downstairs?”

"Absolutely," Ivy says. She grabs Harley's hand. The best is when they can't stop touching each other. The bannister is still covered in Ivy's vines as they make their way down.

They’re in the front hallway, turning off to find ballrooms and tennis courts or whatever to do things on, when there’s a noise behind them. It is the words, “what the fuck?” And a teenage boy kind of giggle.

"Shit," Ivy says, but not like she's really worried. She spins them both around.

The noise obviously came from the teenager in a hoodie, who looks like he’s about to keep laughing and fight them at the same time. Next to the teenager is Bruce Wayne. He’s in a turtleneck. 

“Where the heck did you come from?” she asks.

"I should ask you the same thing!" Bruce Wayne says. He's fighting a look of horror, and he puts his hand on the kid's shoulder as if to either protect him or hold him back.

“Easy! We came in through the library window!” says Harley. “It’s not like it was locked!”

"Jason, call the police," Wayne says to the kid.

"Don't bother," Ivy says. "We know how to deal with them, and I'm sure you don't want that. Relax. We didn't ruin anything you can't replace."

“DOWN WITH THE HETEROPATRIARCHY!” Harley yells.

“Do I have to call the police?” Jason says. “I bet I can take them.”

"_No,_" Wayne says.

"The smallest heteropatriarch has a real attitude," Ivy comments.

“If you don’t stop calling me _hetero_ I’m going to throw you off a roof,” says Jason.

Harley growls and lunges forward a little.

"Looks like a fair match," Ivy says. "I'd put money on you, though, Harl."

"Jason, get out of here," Wayne says. "We'll talk about this later."

“Where’s my dog?” demands Jason, who absolutely doesn’t leave, Harley notices.

“What dog?” she says.

“_My_ dog,” says Jason angrily.

"We didn't see a dog," Ivy says. "We came to rage against the machine."

Wayne just looks annoyed now. "Well, are you done?"

Harley and Ivy exchange a look.

“Well...I guess?” says Harley. “If that’s cool with you, Mr. Wayne. I mean, EVEN IF IT’S NOT! WE’RE DONE! YOU CAN’T STOP WHAT’S ALREADY OVER! HAHAHA.”

“Oh my god,” says Jason. “Just leave already.”

"We're already gone," Ivy says. She turns and makes a dash for the exit, trailing leaves.

Harley points at the kid. “It’s honestly so inspiring that you’re out and proud!” she says. “Stay true to yourself, kid! Suck it, old man!” Then she runs after Ivy, smashing things as she goes.

iv.

Harley cannot wait to tell Eddie about the Bruce Wayne thing. She can’t _wait_. She does have to wait, until the next afternoon anyway, because first she and Ivy are busy and then Harley’s asleep, then she has breakfast with the boss and a couple errands to run, and only _then_ can she call Eddie up. 

“Hey, cutie!” she says. “Can I come to yours? I need to dish.”

"Oh," Eddie says, "yeah." That tone means they're either being kidnapped, in the middle of having sex, or up to something Harley wouldn't like. 

“Great,” she says, ignoring the tone. If it’s a kidnapping, she’ll help. If it’s sex, she’ll apologize. If it’s anything else, it’s better for everyone if she shows up and stops it. She hangs up and hustles the twenty minutes to Eddie’s place. It’s only so long because of traffic. Harley’s on foot, but there are too many people on the sidewalks. 

She lets herself into Eddie’s apartment and yells, “Get decent if you want to be decent,” before stepping inside.

"Hi!" Eddie says sharply. They're fully clothed and sitting at the kitchen table. The place is a mess, but that's normal. There are piles of bills on the table, piles of clothes on the floor, and dishes in the sink.

There’s also someone stuck halfway out the window, leaning back onto the fire escape.

"Ed," Harley says, hands on hips. "Is this a bad time?"

"Two more minutes would have been great," Eddie says wearily. And then to the person in the window, "Maybe come back in a sec?"

“You’re gonna get me in trouble,” they say, and then hop back inside light as a kind of husky kitty cat. They’re wearing street clothes and a mask, which is hilarious. 

"Do your parents know you go out dressed like that?" Harley demands. Good thing she brought her mallet!

“Haha,” they say. “Do your parents know you totally wasted your doctor degree?”

"And you got a mouth on you," Harley says. Whose business is that?! She hefts the mallet and winds up.

"Wait!" Eddie says. "You said you wanted to meet! Kind of!"

So it _is_ Robin. Not that there was really any doubt. What other asshole teens come hanging out at Eddie’s place?

“I don’t think I said that,” Robin says dubiously. “Did I say that?” He’s got his fists up, and boy, she knows they can hit.

"Gimme one good reason not to knock his block off," Harley tells Eddie. Up close, this kid is definitely not the first Robin. His scratchy little voice is way different.

"The only person who's going to lose in that fight is me," Eddie says. "Is that a good reason?"

“It’s a good enough reason,” Robin says, but he doesn’t back down. Probably thinks Harley will swing the second he relents.

Eddie takes the mallet out of Harley's hand, which is rude, but she doesn't put up a fight. Eddie is too sweet to fight.

"I'm telling Batman," she says, just to see if that'll get a reaction. The kid is so weirdly familiar, which makes sense, because they've fought a billion times.

Robin rolls his eyes so hard she can see it through the mask, but he fixes them back on her quick enough. “I’m sure that’s gonna go great for you,” he says. “If you want to get sent to Arkham the one time you’re not murdering people.”

"I bet you'd love that," Harley says. "That would just make your day."

“Maybe, in your case,” says Robin hotly. Oof, no, this is not the cute little boy Eddie’s been describing to her at _all_. This kid’s a real prick.

"Too bad for you I love Arkham," Harley says. Partly 'cause she knows Mr. J will get her out in a flash every time. "Jeez, where did Batman pick you up, anyway?"

“None of your business,” Robin says. Then the weirdest thing happens. He puts his fists down and grabs a seat at Eddie’s table. There’s a mostly empty glass of orange pop sitting there, and Robin grabs it and takes a swig. “Are you doing any murdering tonight?” 

"No, are you?" Harley says. She's stumped. This kid is weird. And so familiar.

For some reason, he laughs. It’s adorable, just one backwards hiccup of a noise, and he’s grinning under his mask. “I don’t really kill people,” he says casually, but Harley has a nose for these things and she is not one hundred percent convinced he means he _wouldn’t_ kill people.

Harley tentatively leans back on the fridge. "So how come you hang around with Eddie?" she asks. "Isn't that against daddy's rules?"

“I don’t have a daddy, thanks,” says Robin. “And don’t worry about Batman. I’m careful.” That is _not_ what Eddie said. Harley hasn’t forgotten about Jonathan.

"You don't act like someone who's careful," Harley says. He doesn't even act like Robin. He's both cuter and more of a pain than the last one.

“I’m not getting in your business,” he says, like he didn’t just have the cheek to say that about her job. And then, way worse: “I like Eddie and Jon, but they don’t work with the Joker, do they?”

"Ooh, Mr. Not Getting In My Business," Harley says. She skips over to lean her elbows on the table, getting right in Robin's face. "You put up with my friends and I'll put up with yours."

Robin says, “They’re not even a little the same thing. You know that, right?”

"Well, but get a little perspective," Eddie says. "He does kind of treat us like shit." Good Eddie, showing some backbone.

Robin glances out the window. “Right, but I’m working on that,” he says. 

In profile, he looks even more familiar. "Hey, you're a Gotham kid, right?" Harley demands. She recognizes the accent. "You grew up here?"

“Does any other place exist?” he says gruffly.

"Mood," Eddie says.

"Then you shouldn't be such a prick to us other Gotham kids," Harley says. "We're just trying to make it in the bad old city." She sticks her tongue out.

He raises his eyebrows and gives her a fighting look. “I’m not a prick to all the Gotham kids,” he says. 

"He's not a prick to me," Eddie says firmly. "And that's why I wanted you to meet." Eddie should have known that just 'cause they get along with someone doesn't mean Harley will.

"Well, he's got a rotten attitude," Harley says. "I'm gonna tell Ivy all about this." Ivy will be pissed off on her behalf. Maybe they'll beat Robin up extra next time they run into him.

“Oh no,” says Robin coolly, then turns to Eddie. “I’m gonna get outta here,” he says. “See ya, okay? Tell Jon I’m sorry I missed him.”

"Next time," Eddie says.

Harley is steamed. Eddie should know better! The kid is a prick. The kid is so familiar.

Robin does some kind of wierdo magic handshake with Eddie, which would be hysterical (because it’s Eddie) if she wasn’t so mad. Then he hops back out the window and disappears.

As soon as he’s gone, Harley spins on her heels and screeches, “What are you _thinking_, Ed? That kid’s a _monster_! And he’s not even our kind of monster!”

"First of all, don't," Eddie says, covering their ears. "Second of all, you're wrong! He's saved me and Jon. A _lot_. That's still true, no matter how much of an attitude he has. If you can't figure that one out, you really suck at riddles."

Maybe she does, because whatever is bugging her about Robin, she can’t figure it out. But Eddie’s still wrong. “I don’t know what he’s playing, but he’s not a little ole kitten you can pick up out of the street. He’s _Batman’s_ kitten, and Batman’s gonna want him back! I don’t care if he messes up Jon, but you should!”

"I care," Eddie says, backing down a little. "But Batman can want what he wants. It doesn't mean he's going to get it."

Harley laughs so hard she’s dizzy. “Ed!” she gasps. “You don’t think you’re gonna turn him, do you?”

Eddie blushes and glares at her. "Is that so crazy?"

“My last week bruises say if he’s gonna be on our side, he’s still not gonna be on my side,” Harley says darkly.

"Not everyone who hates Batman gets along," Eddie says lightly. "I'm not naming names, but come on, you know that. Anyway, it's not a plan, just a--thought."

“And what are you gonna do once you’ve got him?” she asks--not teasing, just really astounded. “Move in with Jon and raise him up all on your own?”

"Well, maybe!" Eddie says. "Honestly, I haven't thought that far. You think Jon would let me move in?" They are not taking this at all seriously.

“Ughhhh, Ed,” she says. “Do you want me to answer that? Because I can answer that.” If she does, Jon will probably walk through the door in the same instant.

"I love answers," Eddie says wistfully.

She ruffles their hair. “Do you _really_ want to settle down in the _suburbs_ and fry people’s brains?”

"No," Eddie says. "But I want to be near him all the time. Do you think Robin would like to fry people's brains in the suburbs?"

She rolls her eyes and drops her mallet on the table. She opens the fridge, and is annoyed to see that the kid was right. There is nothing in there. 

“I think he’d rather punch ‘em through a wall. We should get takeout,” she says. “Oh, but I guess Jon who you wanna live with forever is going to be here soon. We should go to a real restaurant and he can treat us.”

"He always does," Eddie says. "He's a gentleman. Depending, uh, what mood he's in." 

“He’s always a gentleman to you,” Harley says. She can give Jon that one. “I’m gonna lie down. It’s been a long day.” She likes using Eddie’s bed and she likes snuggling, and she likes that none of the jealous boyfriends and girlfriends see anything here worth messing up. She’s got her whole world exactly where she wants it.

Eddie gives her a hug. "Go ahead. I'll wake you up when Jon gets here."

v.

Harley is full of about ten different kinds of kerfuffle when she gets to Ivy’s place. Eddie’s being defensive, Robin’s a dick, and maayyyyybe she shouldn’t have walked into dinner with Jonathan Crane in a bad mood, but it was free and she was feeling reckless. So sue her! It’s not her fault he’s a creep and a pill. (Eddie is so upset with her.) (But she didn’t _really_ ruin everything. And Jonathan still paid.)

Ivy is doing yoga when Harley gets there. From a backbend, she says, "Close the door. I have a new plant and I need to keep the temperature right."

Harley shuts the door, then tiptoes over like her footsteps will also hurt the plant, leans all the way down, and kisses Ivy’s chin. She says, “Mm-hm. You’re so cute.”

Ivy grimances and lowers herself to the floor. Sitting up, she says, "You look like you've been getting into trouble."

“Ugh,” says Harley. “Minor-est trouble. Small trouble, _and_ trouble with a minor. I guess.”

"Wait," Ivy says. "What?"

“I went to Eddie’s,” Harley says laboriously, copying Ivy’s yoga move. “_Robin_ was there.”

Ivy's gaze trails up and down Harley's body, her eyebrows raised. "Mm." Then, "Hold on. Robin?"

“Ro-bin,” Harley sighs, then hops back up. She strokes Ivy’s hair on her way to the kitchen. Hopefully there won’t be so many plants in the sink that she can’t use it to get some water. “He’s a little prick even when he’s supposed to be making a positive impression,” she calls backwards.

Ivy follows her into the kitchen. "Why was Robin trying to make a positive impression on you? Usually he's trying to make other kinds." She half-heartedly mimes punching Harley.

Harley laughs. “No joke,” she says. “Well, maybe not _positive_, but at least he wasn’t there to fight. He was there for playtime with Eddie, and Eddie likes us both.” She wrinkles her nose. “For some reason.”

"For some reason," Ivy echoes, rolling her eyes. "But seriously, Harley, hasn't this thing with Eddie and Jon gone far enough? They need to either spring the trap on Robin or stop playing."

Harley shakes her head. “I really don’t get it,” she says. “He’s a brat! I’d love to just turn him into a cheese sandwich! But, I mean, he keeps helping them out, and maybe that’s okay.” She pulls a horrible face. “Maybe it’s _complicated._ But I don’t like ‘im.”

"Good," Ivy says. "I'm glad he hasn't brain-wiped you, too. Can't you talk to Eddie? If you talk to Eddie, I'll talk to Jon, and we can send the kid back to Batman where he belongs."

“Wherever that is,” says Harley slowly. “You know, Ive, the weirdest thing about all this is that I swear I’ve met that kid before.”

Ivy looks at her like she's dumb. "You have met him before. Dozens of times."

Harley leans over and plants a big noisy kiss on her cheek. “Silly. I mean _without_ the mask.”

Ivy frowns and leans against the fridge. "He's a teenager, right? You don't typically hang out with teenagers." They don't really house teens at Arkham, or they're not supposed to, and the other context Harley might meet them in, she doesn't usually know them for long.

“Yeah,” says Harley. She frowns. “I’m probably just making things up. He just, you know, he just really reminded me of that kid at Wayne Manor.”

"The spoiled rich kid," Ivy says. "Wayne's ward." She frowns into the middle distance.

Harley laughs. “Maybe he’s a rich kid _now_, but I never met any money who sounded like _that_.” She does an impression of his voice. “_Where’s my dog?_ Maybe that’s why they remind me of each other. Him and the new Robin.”

"Maybe," Ivy says, clearly bored of the topic. "Anyway. Wayne must have a heart of gold to've picked that kid up."

“Yeah, but he hasn’t taught him manners in all these years?” Harley asks. “_Please_. If _I_ had a little boy I’d make sure he was polite to grownups, y’know?”

"Well, Bruce Wayne is a capitalist shithead," Ivy says. 

“It would be so funny,” Harley says, “if those kids _were_ the same person. Because shithead capitalist Bruce Wayne would be _Batman.”_ She starts laughing so hard her guts hurt.

Ivy looks at her coldly. "Harley," she says.

“What,” Harley says. “I know he’s _not_.”

"No," Ivy says, shaking it off. "Definitely not. I've been up close and personal with Robin. Not in a while, but I have." Ivy gets up close and personal with everyone.

“Didn’t you hear what I said?” Harley says. “It’s a different kid. The old one’s gone.”

"I thought you might be wrong," Ivy says. "In that cause, you'd know better than I would. But what if Wayne's ward is Robin, but Batman is someone else? He could be creeping out of Wayne's house at night and meeting up with Batman." She shrugs. "You never know."

Harley starts giggling. “What if he was, though?” she says, and rocks back and forth in absolute delight. Can this even be a little real? PLEASE be a little teensy bit real. “We effed up Batman’s bedroom!”

"He would have knocked us out!" Ivy snaps. Then she softens again. "Although I guess he wouldn't have been able to do that without blowing his cover. Ugh, it would save a lot of time if I only had to hate one of them."

“Yeah,” says Harley with a sigh. “Oh well. Gotham kids are a dime a dozen, right? And Bruce Wayne is already a part of the nightlife. It was just a thought, I guess.”

"Look at it this way," Ivy says. "Even if it were true, would you really want to know? There's a reason we don't dig in that direction." She stops and frowns. "_Harley._ Didn't Wayne have another ward before this one?"

“Sweet Jesus,” says Harley. “He really is Batman.” She laughs, because it’s hilarious. She’s not sure if it’s true or not, but like Ivy says, it probably doesn’t matter. 

_Mr. J would want to know._

Huh. That’s a good point.

"Harley," Ivy says sharply. Is she a mind-reader now? That would be a problem. "What are you thinking about doing?"

Harley schools her face into something cherubic and innocent. “Nothin’,” she says. “Just remembering his sheets.”

Ivy smiles a little and opens the fridge to get juice. "The sheets," she says. "God. We ruined Batman's sheets."

Harley bounces over and squeezes Ivy so tight she almost drops the jug. “You are perfect,” she says. “We are perfect! We did the most perfect thing ever, and guess what? Batman can’t even get back at us because it would be suspicious to hunt us down for no reason. Hah!” She smacks a kiss on Ivy’s cheek.

"My hero," Ivy says. "Let's keep this our little secret, hm?" That's Ivy, the most fun out of everyone, until she's not.

Harley bites her lips and hums. “I can keep my mouth shut,” she says honestly. Will she? Hmmmm.

Ivy nods and pours herself a glass of juice. "Then we're geniuses and I'm so proud of us."

“Aww,” says Harley, turning pink. “Pretty please, show me how proud you are?” She leans on the counter and does a suggestive little wiggle. She knows how cute she is! She knows how to get what she wants.

Ivy puts the juice down, and Harley knows she's won.

vi.

For a couple of weeks, Harley is actually the very good girl Ivy wants her to be. She goes to work, she does her job, and she keeps her mouth shut. It’s easier if she frames it as a favor--if _she_ figured out who Batman is before Mr. J, _he’ll_ have his pride wounded. That’s a man! So she doesn’t say anything. 

Then one day Mr. J is in a very good mood. He won't say why, but she knows he has a plan, and hey, knowing him, it'll probably work out. He's even got a big whiteboard with a map drawn on it for the henchmen. He's _even_ whistling.

He grabs Harley around the waist and gives her a big kiss on the cheek as he goes by.

"Ready to make history?" he asks her.

She lets out a big honking laugh and says, “You know it, boss! I’ll make anything you want.”

"Batman's been having just too good a year," Mr J says, grinning. "It really gets my goat." He pulls a scary face. "Let's turn that around, hm?"

Of course any really good plan is going to have Batman in it. She knows that, and she’s happy for it--messing with the old squeaker is one of her favorite things to do, and he’s kicked her around enough times that he’s earned it by now. (Who’s she kidding? The way he messes everything up for all of them down in the underworld--he deserves it every day!)

“Oohhh, yay!” she says, clapping her hands. “So glad I dressed up for the occasion.” She twirls around like Mr. J has never seen her costume before and like she doesn’t wear it every night. 

He laughs and bows elaborately. "Well, it's about time you spent an evening here instead of at you-know-who's house, watering her plants." He always has to throw something in there.

“Don’t worry about Ivy,” she says blithely. “You know there’s only one Mr. J for me, and I’ll be right where you need me to be, any time you need me!”

"And tonight, I need you," he says, flinging an arm around her. "We're one step closer to ruining Batman's day. Or, let's get ambitious, his year. This time we're really going to get Robin. I know, I know, he beats us ten times out of ten, but never say never."

“Ooh,” says Harley, grinning. She owes Robin and he probably deserves it, and besides, it’ll be so much fun! But there’s just the smallest sliver of discomfort inside her. Eddie is ruining the fun. Ivy is also ruining the fun. She brushes that aside and says, “How’re we gonna get him, boss?” 

"How does anyone get a kid like him?" Mr. J says, grinning and grinning. "The kid's obviously got no parents, right? So I told him I might have an idea about some family he's still got out there. After that it's just a hop, skip, and impulsive jump to getting him alone."

“He’s got a mommy,” says Harley. Ohhh, no. She’s not supposed to say that. Worse, she doesn’t even sugarcoat it. “Who’s alive, in Gotham.”

Mr. J stops. It's not every day she gets to surprise him, so she relishes the moment. "_What?_" he says.

“Yeah,” says Harley slowly. She can feel Ivy and Ed and Jon (fuck Jon) screaming at her in the back of her head. But you know what? She’s kept it secret long enough. And it’s too late to go back now! She says purposefully, “I was gonna tell you. It’s because of something the Riddler said--they don’t know--but I think I know who Robin is.”

Mr. J has gone deadly silent. "If you know that…" he says finally, his voice full of warnings.

“I was just gonna tell you _today_,” she says quickly, smile in her voice. “And I didn’t want to say anything if it might be stupid.”

His mood changes again, snapping back into action mode. "It probably is stupid!" he says. "And just because you know that, doesn't mean you know anything else. But why don't you share? In case it makes our little job easier."

Harley thinks about how much Robin deserves to be messed with. She also thinks about how mad Ivy and Eddie are going to be. But they’re just gonna have a little fun, aren’t they? She’s not changing everything in Gotham forever! Like the boss said, knowing who Robin is doesn’t really mean they know about Batman. 

“Bruce Wayne’s ward,” she says. “I don’t know his name. The new one, though.”

Mr. J's eyebrows go up, and for a few terrifying seconds, he doesn't say anything. Then he bursts out laughing. "Well," he says when he recovers, "at least we know where to find him."

“We sure do!” says Harley. In that room they saw, with the messed up bed and the game controllers. Well, being a kid doesn’t mean you’re not a dangerous pain in the ass. She remembers her very own self telling Eddie that hurting Robin would get them in big trouble, and pushes the thought aside.

"Wayne probably won't even miss the kid, once he finds out what he's been up to," Mr. J says firmly. "Come on, Harley, let's scrap the old plan and just go grab him!" There's a dangerous edge that wasn't there before, but it's too late to backtrack now, even if she wanted to.

“Oh, yay!” says Harley. “Let’s do it, boss!” She doesn’t question whether Robin will be home during prime crimefighting hours. Maybe he will be. Maybe he won’t. She grins at Mr. J. Just a little kidnapping is nothing to get flustered about. This plan is good.

"And if he's not there, we'll track down mommy for a family reunion," Mr. J says. "Harley, you always come through." His eyes flick away from her. "Eventually."

“Aw, that’s sweet,” Harley says. “This is gonna be so much fun!”

Mr. J grabs his favorite gun. "It's gonna be to die for."

Oh, Harley thinks. Crap.

vii. 

Harley feels worse and worse about this plan the closer they get to Wayne Manor. Stupid Harley! She just wanted to help and now this asshole kid is going to get killed, and it’s not that she’s never had anything to do with killing somebody before, but it’s not ever been someone Batman cares about on a personal level. That is really gonna knock them all on their butts.

And, okay--she’s not very excited about killing a kid, not _any_ kid.

It's just the two of them, no henchmen. This is too important to let someone else mess up. Mr. J is all tense and excited the whole way to the manor. This is a whole different level from before she told him what she knew. When they pull up outside the big iron gates, he says, "Which part of him do you think we should leave for Batman? I was thinking we'd put it on the roof of the police station and leave a light on for him."

Harley laughs uneasily. “You mean like that dumb little cape or something?”

"Or his head," Mr. J says with a ghoulish smile.

Harley doesn’t have anything to say to that, so she just says, “Some tight security here, huh?” It’s not!

"Some people think they're too rich to screw with," Mr. J says. "Follow me." He leads Harley around the same direction Ivy did.

Harley tries very hard to act like she’s never been here before. The damage from last time is already repaired. She’s relieved by that, but it’s not that much of a relief when the whole situation stinks.

“It’s a really big house, where do you think he’ll be?” she asks. She bites down a giggle, because she doesn’t know what she wants to happen, here. It’s a funny little game--either upset Mr. J _real_ bad, or get Robin _real_ murdered. Oh, shit she’s gonna be murdered next, Eddie’s going to kill her and if they won’t, Bruce Wayne Batman will.

"Upstairs," Mr. J says decisively. He always knows a little too much. "And if he's out on the town, we'll wait till he comes back."

With Harley’s luck tonight, he’ll be safely (ha…) curled up in bed like a good little boy.

“Lead the way, Boss,” she whispers.

He goes upstairs and takes a deep breath, looking down the hall. Then he takes out a knife and holds it behind his back, mugging at her. "Pick a door, any door," he whispers.

She shoots back at him with her most dazzling smile, and picks the wrong door. 

“That one!” she says, a little too loud.

"Shh," he says, his face twisting in fury. "You'll ruin it. I'll kill Wayne if I have to, but that's not the game." He nudges the door with his toe. Spare bedroom.

Harley weighs the options. If Robin didn’t hear her yet, there’s nothing she can do about it. If she keeps picking wrong doors, Mr. J’s going to be mad enough to make things worse. 

She says, “May I?” very quietly, and points to the door she knows is it.

Mr. J grabs the knob and twists it, opening it in a whoosh of air.

Robin is standing in the middle of the room, with a game controller in one hand and a baseball bat in the other. He doesn’t look like Robin. He looks like a kid in his pajamas.

“You again!” he says. “I knew I heard something. Get out!”

Harley winces right away, because she’s tried _so_ hard to keep Mr. J from knowing she was here before--but it’s too late now. She glances over at her boss to see how it’s landed.

He gives her a look that she's seen before--the one that says, "yeah, we'll talk about this later and you won't like it."

To Robin, he says, "Drop the bat, little bird." Abruptly, he chortles. "The bat!" A gun has materialized in his hand from somewhere.

“Are you the Joker?” Robin asks, sounding stunned. “What do you--what do you want?” He drops the controller, not the bat, and tightens his grip.

"Uh-uh-uh!" Mr. J shakes his head. "No games, now. Well, not unless I make the rules. Harley, bag him."

The kid is walking a tightrope, Harley gets it. He fights, because he’s shown himself to be the kind of rich guy’s ward who picks up a bat. He doesn’t fight well, though, because he’s already gone and decided he’s not Robin. He probably knows he wouldn’t win even if he gave up his secret. It’s kind of a mess, if you think about it. Harley does her job, waiting every second for Bruce Wayne Batman to come and stop them.

She’s waiting.

She’s waiting.

They’re leaving, and Batman doesn’t come. Neither does Bruce Wayne.

Mr. J makes Harley drive so he can keep an eye on the kid. He keeps watching him, and she thinks he's not 100% sure that it's Robin. "We're not going to hang onto him for long," he tells Harley. "Too much risk of a rescue. I want this one to _stick._"

“My guardian is really rich,” says Robin frantically. “You know that, sorry, you know that. He’s Bruce Wayne. You can ransom me for anything, I promise, he’ll pay.”

“Cocky!” says Harley. She sounds cocky. She’s trying to figure out how the hell she’s going to call Eddie before the kid kicks it.

"You'll pay," Mr. J says fiercely. He's talking to Robin, but Harley feels like it's partly directed at her. "And if you're honest with me, I'll make it quicker."

“Please,” Robin says from inside the bag. “Mr. Wayne will give you anything you want. I can give you his private number. I don’t know what you want!” He’s convincing, that’s for sure. He doesn’t sound like the brutish little Robin Harley knows and doesn’t love. Either he’s a lot smarter than he looks (cuz he’s as scared as he should be) or a lot braver than he should be (cuz he won’t give up Batman’s secret). Either one is a crappy answer. Like she said. Harley doesn’t want to kill a kid, even this kid, and this kid is kind of making her like him.

She has to get to Eddie.

"What I want," Mr. J says, his voice careening all over the place, "is this, kiddo! And what comes next. Turn left, Harley."

Harley peels left. “The usual spot, Mr. J?” she asks brightly. There’s a place around here they use for dealing with difficult people.

"That's the one!" he screeches. Then his voice drops, low and menencing. "And Harley? I want to do it myself."

“Sure thing, boss!” she says, and her voice might shake a _little_. “Only thing is, are you sure this is the kid? I could be wrong. You said yourself I mess up once in a while!”

“I don’t know who you think I am,” Robin says. He sounds like he’s crying. Harley notices for the first time that he hasn’t called for help even once. This must be the right kid, then, because anyone else would be screaming bloody murder. This kid knows the Joker; he doesn’t want anyone else to get involved. The fact that he’s brave makes this worse.

"If it's not the kid, who cares?" Mr. J snaps. "No loss for us. Just for him, ha! Pull over here. Oh, where's my knife? I want this to last."

“Boss,” says Harley uneasily as she pulls up to the building, “you know I respect you the most out of anybody, and your plans are always the best, but don’t you think Bruce Wayne might be able to cause a little bit of trouble if you go and kill his very own ward? I’m just thinking about it now, y’know?”

"What's the problem, baby, cold feet?" There's such an edge to his voice. "Bruce Wayne is just some rich guy. Isn't he? Don't we have bigger things to worry about, if we're worrying? What do you think, since you know so much?"

“Rich guys have a lot of power,” Harley says. “That’s all.”

"Not over us!" he spits. "I thought we were in this together, but if you can't stomach it, maybe I'll go it alone. Spend some quality time with our boy." He laughs, high and eerie.

“Let me go, please!” Robin says. He’s being so brave, lying all this time. But the being scared is real. She gets a sour feeling in her gut. 

“Aw, come on, Mr. J, I didn’t say that,” she says. Inside she’s crossing all her fingers that he sends her away. She needs--Batman, probably. Yugh. Or maybe she can do this with just her own folks.

Is she really thinking of double crossing the _Joker_, though?

"The last thing I need is you spoiling my moment," he says. "Which you always do. If you can't stand the heat…" He hops out of the car and hauls Robin out after him.

Harley freezes for a second behind the wheel, and then says hesitantly, “Will you call me when you need a lift, though?”

He gives her a disgusted look. "Just what I wanted out of you. A chauffeur service. Get lost."

Harley knows she looks as upset as she feels. Her whole costume feels like it’s drooping. “All right, boss,” she says, and peels out. She leaves Robin behind.

What a day, right?

Now she has to figure out what the heck she’s going to do.

viii.

Harley hasn’t driven very far (or very fast--the last thing she needs is to get pulled over!) when she decides that Eddie has to be her first stop. She fishes her phone out of the front of her costume and pulls off her glove with her teeth and scrolls through until she can punch Eddie’s name. She keeps driving towards their place the whole time.

"Hey, Harley," Eddie says tiredly into the phone.

“Emergency, Ed!” Harley says. “No time for feelings, okay?!”

"What?" Eddie says, sharpening up. "I mean, tell me!" They're not always good in a crisis, but she's gambling.

“I accidentally maybe sort of figured out who Batman is,” she says.

"_Fuck,_" Eddie says after a second. "Wait, don't tell me!"

“Nooooo,” says Harley, “but I have to, though, because I told my boss who Robin is and now he’s gonna murder him! Right now!”

There's a loud silence. "Oh, Harley, no," Eddie says. "Shit. So we have--we have to fight the Joker?" They sound ill.

“I don’t know!” Harley shrieks. “It just came out! Anyway, I don’t know how to fight him. I don’t think either of us is gonna do the trick.” She’s upset even suggesting it, but she’s more upset at what’s going to happen if she doesn’t.

"Jon won't be any help," Eddie says. "Not today. And Harv won't. Shit, we are really short on friends. Only--" They go quiet.

“Think out loud, sweet potato,” Harley says. “I’m almost at your place. Who are we gonna call?”

"Nightwing," Eddie says tightly. "We're calling Nightwing."

“Ohhhh, shit,” says Harley. She pulls up to Eddie’s building and hops out of the car, hitting the buzzer with the side of her fist.

Eddie hangs up and is downstairs in thirty seconds. "Shit," they say. "Okay. I have his number. They're already dialing, with the phone on speaker.

After a second, someone says, "Yeah? I'm really busy."

“Um, hi there, Mr. Nightwing,” says Harley.

"You," he says.

"And me!" Eddie adds quickly. "It's an emergency."

“For real,” Harley says. “Don’t hang up or anything! Listen, my b--the Joker has Robin, and he maybe….knows who Robin is. You know. The rest of the time.”

There's a short pause. Then Nightwing says, "Where?" he sounds strangled. "And where's Batman?"

“We didn’t think he’d listen to us,” Harley says. “He never listens to us, right? Ed and me can’t fight Mr.--the Joker alone. Or at all, maybe?” She laughs uncomfortably.

Eddie, standing next to her, shudders.

"_Where_?" Nightwing demands. "I'm near Gotham, just--tell me where."

“Right!” says Harley in a rush. “Sorry!” She gives him the best directions she can and then says, “We’ll meet you there. I promise, this is the real deal!” 

"Get there fast, even if you beat me," Nightwing says. "Just keep him alive." His voice is calm, but Harley can hear the tremble behind it. He hangs up.

"Shit," Eddie says again. "What are we going to--god. Maybe he won't really kill him."

Harley wants to joke or downplay it or something. She wants to call Ivy. She says, “I don’t think he’s playing catch-and-release, Ed. Come on, get in the car.”

Reluctantly, Eddie does. "He's just going to shoot us," they say. They rub their face. "God, that poor kid. And I owe him. Let's go."

This time they drive very very fast, except where Harley knows the cops hang out (and of course she knows all their hangouts!), and they make it back to the hideout in twenty minutes. If it’s not fast enough, Batman is going to kill Harley. Eddie is going to kill Harley. The brave kid from the back of the car, who wanted his dog, will also be dead. Maybe she’ll see him on the other side and he’ll punch her, just like normal.

They get out of the car. Harley only half expects the Joker to come out and scream at her; he probably won’t want to stop playing.

"We're not going in, are we?" Eddie says, their voice cracking. "Shit, we have to, don't we?"

“No point waiting around,” Harley agrees, and she thinks her voice is shaking too. “What if he killed Robin and we were just standing outside? Nightwing wouldn’t be happy then. How long do you think it’ll take him to show up?”

"I don't know," Eddie says. "He lives in Blüdhaven, so he's not far. But far enough." They take a deep breath. "I'm not even armed. I don't even have anything right now."

“Oh, there’s weapons in the car,” Harley says. “Check out the trunk!”

Eddie opens the trunk carefully. "Jesus," they say. "I don't know how to use half of this." They take a mallet. "I guess I can swing this well enough." Whatever skills Eddie uses to get things done, Harley thinks they could try a little harder to be on the same page as everyone else.

“Okay, buddy, come on!” she says, and makes her way up to the door.

The good thing is, they’re not too late. Robin is tied down on a table, bloody and weak but struggling. There’s a fire crackling in the hearth, and Joker is looming over Robin, holding something that’s red-hot at the tip.

Jeez, Harley doesn’t want him to leave a piece of anybody for Batman. Harley wants to walk this whole night back.

“Mr. J!” she hollers. “I brought somebody smart! They can figure out if this Robin is for real!”

Robin turns his head to see them, and looks blatantly horrified. Well that’s a little insulting.

Mr. J's head snaps up. "I told you not to come back," he hisses.

Eddie takes a step back, but they don't run. "I--I wanted to help."

“Yeah!” says Harley. “Next to you, Mr. J, they probably think more about who Batman is than anybody. And they get punched by Robin _all the time_.”

"I see," Mr. J says, his voice like silk. "And you've come to tell me who Batman is, have you, Eddie?"

Eddie swallows, pale as anything, and shakes their head.

"Good," Mr. J says, "Because we've got room for plenty more killing tonight!" He brandishes his poker.

“Maybe they can just get a closer look,” Harley says. “To be sure.”

"It wouldn't hurt, just to let me see," Eddie babbles,stepping forward. "Maybe we can just pop a mask on him and, and check how he looks."

"You're an idiot," Mr. J says. "Why don't you go play with your makeup and toys, you two?"

Robin, his voice rough, says, “Help me! Help! I don’t care if you’re bad guys, please, I live with Bruce Wayne, he’ll pay anything!” Harley bites her lip and tries not to see Eddie’s face. Robin must be desperate--or he knows she’ll tell Eddie anything _she_ knows--or both.

Eddie is very still. Then they take a deep breath and walk around the table to get in Mr. J's face. "Riddle me this," they say.

Mr. J looks at Eddie, enraged and baffled. He recovers fast, though, and swings the poker, hitting Eddie in the shoulder.

Then, thank god, the window breaks, as something blue and black comes smashing through.

“Oh my god!” says Harley. “What’s this!”

Robin stares at her like, _What the hell are you doing?_ and then sees Nightwing and gets a terrible look of hope on his messed-up face.

Nightwing swings down and kicks Mr. J square in the chest, sending him sprawling. He gets to his feet and takes one look at Mr. J's collection of tools and makes an inarticulate sound of fury. Before Mr. J can get to his feet, Nightwing grabs one of the tools--the handgun.

“Oh my god,” says Harley. “Wait, hold on a second!”

“He knows!” Robin says, his voice cracking. “I tried, but he didn’t believe me. He knows!”

"Well," Nightwing says. He doesn't seem to have anything to follow it up with, so he just levels the gun at Mr. J.

"Oh," Mr. J says, "You can't be serious."

Nightwing pulls the trigger.

Harley feels her entire mind empty out and migrate to another continent. The Joker’s body slides to the floor, and he doesn’t hop up and do a little dance and cut someone five seconds later. He just lies there. She hears herself making some godawful noises. She looks at Eddie and puts her hands on her face.

Eddie grabs her and tugs her close, hiding her face in their shoulder as if she hasn't already seen everything. "Oh my god," they say.

“Holy shit,” Robin says. He sounds shaky. Harley looks up. 

“We should,” she says. “I guess we should cut him loose. Robin. I mean, unless Nightwing’s gonna kill all of us.”

She bursts into tears. 

Nightwing, who is heartless, turns away and unties Robin. "Hey, kid," he says quietly, scooping Robin into his arms.

"I'm so sorry," Eddie says numbly, rubbing Harley's arm.

Harley lets herself cry into Eddie’s shoulder for a few more seconds, then sniffs and looks up. She tries _not_ to look at where the Joker is. 

“Are you gonna?” she asks Nightwing. “Kill us? Cuz I know, and now Ed knows, and maybe you’re just evil Batman who goes around shooting people.”

“It was his gun,” Robin says crankily. Jeez, he looks bad.

"I," Nightwing says. He turns slowly to look at the Joker, like he's not sure what he's done. "I didn't want to--I mean, I didn't _mean_ to. No, I'm not going to hurt you. But don't tell anyone," he adds.

"We wouldn't," Eddie says. They smile shakily at Robin. "You okay?"

Eddie would smile. They hate the Joker and they loooooove Robin. Harley feels miserable and confused, and all the feelings of doing something right are tangled up inside her. Stupid Robin. Stupid _Harley_.

Robin says, “No, I feel like shit.” He sounds so cantankerous, but also like he’s still scared. She doesn’t think even this Robin cuts it so close very often. Even though this Robin is like Harley, a little bit--thinks he’s on top of the world even when it’s about to eat him like a snack. “Thanks,” he adds, looking at Harley. “You didn’t have to.”

“You’re right I didn’t!” she says, but maybe she did.

"Let's get some fresh air," Nightwing says. "God. I don't even want to think about what happens next."

"Batman's going to…" Eddie trails off, like maybe it doesn't matter what Batman does. They open the door, not looking back.

When they get outside, Harley sees a motorcycle parked a little ways off.

“Is that your ride?” she asks. 

"Yeah," Nightwing says. He looks at Robin sideways. "But I don't think it's going to cut it right now."

Eddie wraps their arms around themself and looks at Harley.

“I can give you a ride,” she says miserably. “I know where to go, I guess. Been there a few times now.”

"This is so bad," Nightwing mutters. "So bad." He looks at Harley for the first time. "Sorry," he says. "Not for him, but for you."

“Thanks,” she says. She kind of gets it. She already feels more than one thing about it, which is scary in its own right. “Get in.”

Nightwing helps Robin in and then gets in himself. "Thank you," he says.

“No problem,” she says, and starts laughing as she drives off, because how much bigger of a problem could anyone ask for?

When they’ve driven most of the way, Robin says, “What are we going to do? They can’t just walk into the house, right? He’ll flip his shit.”

"They'd better drop us and leave," Nightwing says, as if they aren't in the car. "Hey--can we all agree that he doesn't need to know that you know who he is?"

“Ha!” says Harley. “Yeah, mister, I think we can agree on that! And me and Ed won’t exactly spread it around. We like being _alive_.” On the word _alive_ she pictures Mr. J sliding to the floor and gets a little choked up.

Eddie grabs her hand and squeezes hard.

"Batman wouldn't--" Nightwing stops and sighs sharply. "God. Well, we'll see what happens to me."

“You’ll be okay,” Robin says. He’s got such a tough little asshole voice, but he sounds worried and sick. “He’ll just get mad. I won’t let him do anything dumb.”

“Here we are,” Harley says, pulling up at the gate. She almost says, _Call me if you need anything,_ but that’s just automatic good manners. She wants to go home and sob her eyes out. _Don’t_ call me, ever again, is more like it. 

This is all her fault. 

Nightwing pauses before getting out of the car. "Thank you," he says again. "I know that wasn't easy. I'll remember." Then he's gone, helping Robin out of the car and into the house.

"Jesus," Eddie whispers. "If you want to go to Ivy's or something, you can drop me wherever. Otherwise, come to my place."

“Should I go back for him?” Harley says, and her voice squeaks. “Should I--should we get rid of him, maybe? I mean--not _get rid of,_ that’s so--ugh!” 

"I'll take care of it for you," Eddie says quietly. "In case you didn't want to."

“Can we just do it together?” she asks, tears welling up. “I know a place.”

"Of course," Eddie says, not panicked or losing their head for once. "Come on. Let's take care of it and then you can go see Ivy."

“That’s what I want,” Harley says, relieved that they understand.

ix.

Going back is awful, but Harley gets her courage together and looks, and it’s definitely real. They pack Mr. J up for burial and scrub the whole scene. They talk about torching it, too, but that would just cause a commotion, and they’re not looking for commotion.

It’s not very dignified, but they send Mr. J off in a trash container headed overseas. Well, it’s supposed to go overseas, but it’s going to sink in the middle of the Pacific. Not very ecologically friendly, maybe, but it’s a good place to hide a body. 

“It’s just lucky he had his fingers in so many pies,” Harley says, honking into a handkerchief. “Otherwise I wouldn’t’ve known about this. And then where’d he be?”

"If it makes you feel any better, without you, he would have been screwed years ago," Eddie says. "I can't believe he's gone." They don't qualify that statement with how they feel about it, maybe because Harley is here.

“Yeah,” she says. “Hey, Ed? I’d like to go home now.”

"I'll drive," Eddie says. They don't talk on the way, and they take her straight to Ivy's. "I'll see you tomorrow," they say. "Or whenever. Stay safe."

“Ditch the car,” she reminds them. “Don’t try to take it and make it yours or anything.”

"What would I even want a car for?" Eddie says, giving her a weak smile. "See you soon. Call me." They give her a half wave and drive off slowly.

Harley pulls on her pom poms and lets herself into Ivy’s building. When she reaches the door she just gives it a little pathetic knock. 

Ivy opens it, looking suspicious, then surprised. "Harley! You look awful." She opens the door wider to let her in.

Harley throws herself at Ivy and kicks the door shut and starts to wail.

Ivy holds on and lets Harley cry. She doesn't even ask what's wrong until Harley's been able to catch her breath.

“Can we get in bed or something?” Harley says. “Can I have a hot cocoa?” It’s about eighty degrees out, but who cares?

"Of course," Ivy says. "You get in bed, I'll get the cocoa." Like Eddie, she can tell when Harley's in an actual mess. She kisses Harley's forehead and goes to the kitchen with a promise to be back soon.

While she’s gone, Harley starts to actually think. That’s no good, so she pulls her hood off, buries herself in pillows and screams a little until Ivy comes in with the cup.

"Hey," Ivy says, sliding into bed next to Harley and reaching across her to set the cocoa on the nightstand. "Want to talk about it?"

“The boss is gone,” Harleys says. “Also I almost got Robin killed. Also Eddie knows about Batman.”

"Back up," Ivy says, after a second of silence.

“Mr. J wanted to go after Robin and I accidentally...on accident..told him...a little,” Harley says. She grabs the mug and peeks out from behind it.

Ivy stares at her. "And when you say _gone_...I really hope you mean gone. Because otherwise..."

“Me and Ed called Nightwing,” Harley says. “To help Robin. He did it.”

"Nightwing? Well, shit," Ivy says, laughing, but not like it's funny. "That's going to cause a whole--Oh, Harley, I'm sorry." To her credit, she does look sorry. Harley knows better, but it's sweet of Ivy to try.

She sniffs. “It was just a lot of a night,” she says tearfully. “He was really gonna kill that kid, though, and it would’ve been my fault! Now it’s just my fault _he’s_ dead!”

"Given a choice between the two, I think you did all right," Ivy says, putting her arm around Harley.

“He wasn’t being very nice to me,” Harley says. “He should have appreciated it that I was smart enough to figure out Batman first!” She only feels partly that way, but it’s a bigger part the more words she gets out.

"I guess you had to figure that out on your own," Ivy says, with the patience of someone who's been telling Harley that kind of thing for years.

Harley sniffs in the chocolate and says, “I guess Mr. J could be kind of a rough crowd. I just felt really bad about it today, you know? And now he’s dead. So I don’t know what to feel!”

"You don't have to know right now," Ivy says. "But you can be proud of the fact that you saved that kid's life. I'm not a fan of Robin, but it was the right thing to do."

“Ugh,” says Harley. “Do you think he’s going to be _grateful_?”

"I doubt it," Ivy says. "He's a brat. He might be awkward, at the very worst."

“Thank goodness for that,” Harley says. She snuggles down a little bit. “I guess I always knew Mr. J was gonna go out with a bang. I just thought he’d be the one planning it.”

"Trust me, this is better for all of us," Ivy says. "Especially you." She kisses the side of Harley's head. "Stay with me for a while. You don't have an excuse not to, now."

That sets a little glow right in Harley’s middle, one that maybe is not so bad.

“Mm,” she says. “Then I guess I will stay, right here.”


End file.
